


in the absence of light

by epsiloneridani



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Brotp, Gen, Reid constantly looks like he needs a hug, canon-typical blood/violence, post season 11 when Morgan leaves the team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 14:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19022203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epsiloneridani/pseuds/epsiloneridani
Summary: In the dark, you can’t see them coming for you.“There’s no such thing as darkness,” Reid whispers, clearing his throat. His hand trembles and he fumbles with the light. “There’s no such thing as darkness."--Morgan leaves.Reid's not afraid of the dark.





	in the absence of light

_They didn’t lose a protector, did they?_

It sticks with him after the case is over and done with, just a folder in a stack in an office full of the same. He runs his hand over the cabinet on his way out the door and counts through the files in the back of his mind. He knows every line.

He knows every life.

The stroll back home is quiet this late at night. His apartment is dark, still, and he stands staring into the abyss for a breath, a bated beat that makes sweat bead on his forehead.

In the dark, you can’t see them coming for you.

“There’s no such thing as darkness,” Reid whispers, clearing his throat. His hand trembles and he fumbles with the light.

“There’s no such thing as darkness,” he mumbles again, blinking, blinking. “Just the absence of visible light. Nothing here emits electromagnetic radiation on the frequency of the visible spectrum. That’s why we can’t see when the lights are off and--”

He stops. There’s no one here to tell.

His bedroom looms, hazy and distant. Dark. No light.

Spencer curls up on the couch. He doesn’t remember what book he tried to read. He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

When he wakes up, the lights are still on but too bright; his pulse is quick, too quick, and it hurts to breathe. He blinks and he can see the blood and hear the screams. He blinks and he’s running and they’re falling and he’s late, too late, too late for any of them.

His cellphone is heavy in his hands.

It’s too late to call any of them.

He leans his head back and stares at the ceiling and wonders if anyone will ever divide by zero in a way that means something.

The BAU is quiet in the morning. They’re supposed to have this Saturday off if no serial killer strikes, but he passes Tara in the hall and bumps into Rossi by the coffee machine. They give him their smiles, but they don’t ask what he’s doing here on their day away so he returns the favor and lets them slip by without ever really meeting their eyes.

He stops at the cabinet again when the sun is streaming through the windows and bathing the office gold. It’s late, past four, and some ticking urgency in his chest says he should go, should get home before the sun sets and night falls and he has to walk the dark streets alone.

“I’m not afraid of the dark,” Spencer says.

“What?” Prentiss stops beside him, her arms full of files. When did Prentiss get here? “...Reid?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” he repeats, shoving his hands in his pockets and giving her a little smile he knows doesn’t reach his eyes. “I was just thinking.”

She tilts her head at him. “ _Just_  thinking, huh?”

He hears the skepticism, sees the way she furrows her brows together. Stressed. Stressed. Her last syllable cracked. “Yeah,” he repeats. Smiling hurts. “Just -- about waves. Electromagnetic radiation.”

She snorts softly. He eases past her and knows her eyes follow him out the door. Her stare burns.

The phone rings at one AM. He isn’t asleep.

“It’s a bad one,” Garcia says, and her voice trembles in a way that tells him she’s seen something she wishes she hadn’t. “Emily’s going to brief everyone on the plane.”

There’re two families dead and another missing.

They’re almost too late. A minute more and there wouldn’t have been anyone left to save.

It’s dark by the time they make it back to the plane. He glances over his shoulder on his way up the stairs, squinting at the horizon like that’ll help him make out more than misty shadows. The airport lights only shine so far.

“Spence? You okay?”

He jolts. JJ gives him a lopsided smile. “Yeah,” Reid says. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You were pretty zoned there.”

“I – was just thinking.”

In front of her, Prentiss stiffens, halfway through the door. She takes a step back and straightens to meet his eyes. In the darkness he can just barely make out her frown. “Oh? About what?”

“Nothing,” Reid says. “It’s nothing.”

“You’ve been thinking about a lot of nothing lately,” Prentiss says. Reid shrugs and holds her gaze. She waits a beat more and then slips inside. He follows her.

His apartment is pitch black. He doesn’t have the energy to turn on the lights, just kicks off his shoes and collapses into bed.

The nightmare is always the same.

It’s dark and his weapon is cold in his hands. Hotch is on the radio. The helicopter is touching down and they’re running for the cabin and Reid is at the front and he reaches for the door and something -- snaps -- snaps -- cracks -- and the silence shatters and there’s a sharp halo and the sick scent of smoke and fresh blood. He fires, fires, fires -- the figure falls -- and he’s holstering his gun and rushing forward and hoping against the odds streaming behind his eyes that at point blank range the assassin  _missed_.

_Morgan -- Morgan, c’mon, talk to me, Morgan--_

There’s blood streaming between his fingers. Too much. Too much. Too late.

_Morgan!_

Spencer wakes screaming, rocketing upright and fumbling frantically with the blankets, holding his hands up in front of his face. They’re clean. They’re clean. They’re clean. Safe.

Not too late.

He’s shaking so hard it takes three minutes to find his phone on his nightstand and another two to punch in the right number. He doesn’t think before he hits submit -- doesn’t want to. His stomach churns.

“Hello?”

Morgan sounds groggy, tired, and Reid almost hangs up on the spot. The pause aches. In the background something shifts, rustling and creaking, soft voices and steps and then a door’s click.

“Hey, kid?”

“Are you okay?” Reid blurts.

There’s a dumbfounded silence but only for a second. Morgan’s voice softens. “Yeah, Reid. I’m okay.”

“Savannah and the baby? They’re--”

“They’re okay too,” Morgan says.

“Okay. Sorry, I just wanted to--”

“Hang on a second,” Morgan says. “You’re calling me in the middle of the night out of the blue.”

“...yes.”

“Are  _you_  okay?”

“Yes,” Reid says immediately. “I’m fine. I’m sorry I--”

“Reid.”

“I’ll just--”

“ _Reid._ ”

Reid stops.

“I’m on my way,” Morgan says and panic spikes in Reid’s chest.

“No. No, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m already in the car, kid.”

“I’m  _okay,_ ” Spencer says.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“Morgan--”

“I didn’t put this up for debate.”

Reid drops his head into his hands. “You don’t have to do this,” he says, and for all of his effort to steady his voice it still cracks. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Don’t you think this is a little bit of an overreaction?”

“No. I don’t.”

Reid sighs. “I’ll -- see you in a few minutes,” he says, and ends the call before Morgan can protest. He half expects his phone to ring a second later. It almost surprises him when it doesn’t.

The darkness feels suffocating. He forces himself up and flicks on the light then collapses on the couch and drives his palms into his eyes.

There’s rapping at the door. Reid bites his lip.

“Hey, kid?”

Spencer opens the door a crack. “Yeah?”

Morgan raises his eyebrows. Reid lets the door open the rest of the way and Morgan steps inside and closes it behind him. For a moment, they just stand there.

“Hey,” Morgan says again, but it’s softer.

Reid folds his arms across his chest. Smiling hurts. There’s a lump in his throat. “Hi.”

Morgan steps forward and wraps his arms around him, careful, careful, and Reid presses his face against his shoulder and leans into the hold and breathes -- breathes. The tightness in his chest eases.

“I’m okay,” Morgan says quietly, a low rumble. “I’m right here.”

“I know,” Reid croaks. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for.”

“What about Savannah and -- and the baby?”

“I told her where I was going,” Morgan says. “She knows.”

“Well, shouldn’t you get back there? What if something happens?”

“Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“But what if--”

“What’s goin’ on with you lately?” Morgan interrupts. Reid tries to ease away from the hold but it’s unyielding, no use, so he stays put.

“What do you mean?”

“You know I still talk to Garcia, right?”

“I don’t follow.”

Morgan sighs. It’s quiet for a beat. “Reid,” he asks slowly, “are you okay?”

His throat tightens. His eyes burn. “Yeah,” Reid says hoarsely. “I’m fine.”

“You wanna try that again?”

“No.” It comes out higher than he means it to. He drives his fingers into Morgan’s jacket and breathes -- breathes -- breathes. “No, I don’t.”

Morgan cradles the back of his head with a hand, ruffles his hair gently, gently. “All right,” he says. “All right.”

It might have been a moment or it might have been an hour. It feels like forever before he finds his voice again.

“I miss you,” Reid whispers. It hurts to say it. He shouldn’t say it.

Morgan has another family to defend now.

Morgan sucks in a deep breath and Reid takes the opportunity to push at him, push away. It goes about as far as his last attempt. “Kid,” Morgan says at last, “why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“I didn’t want to -- you -- I’ve been busy.”

“I told you I’d always be here for you. I meant that.”

“I know.” His voice sounds so small, even to him, and part of him hates it and part of him is too tired to care. Reid presses closer -- breathes, breathes. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“You should go home now.”

Morgan does push away at that, if only enough to meet his eyes and make an incredulous face.

“Savannah and the baby,” Reid reminds. “They need you.”

“My little brother needs me too.”

Reid blinks, blinks, and manages a wavering smile. Warmth blooms in his chest. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“I was awake anyway.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“Yes, I  _was_.”

“No, you  _weren’t_.”

Morgan laughs, an infectious rumble. Reid cracks another smile.

This time, it doesn’t hurt.

“I miss you too, kid,” Morgan says. He holds for a moment longer and then lets go slowly. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?”

“ _You_  are gonna put together a bag. I’m calling my wife to tell her we’re gonna have company for a couple of days.”

“Oh. No, I can’t--”

“Garcia told me you took the week. You have any other plans?”

“I was going to reread my library.”

“And that’ll take you all of what? A day?”

Reid shrugs. Morgan rolls his eyes. “Look, Savannah works during the day for the next few shifts. You can help me with the baby.”

“Can I play Mozart?”

“Sure.” Morgan shoves his shoulder. “Go. Get your bag.”

By the time he walks back out Morgan is sliding his cellphone into his pocket. “Savannah tried making breakfast,” he says, grinning. “So we’re gonna stop off at the store and get some more eggs.”

Reid nods agreeably, shifts from one foot to the other and fidgets with the bag slung over his shoulder. “Are you sure--”

“If you don’t show up now, you’ll disappoint Savannah  _and_  your nephew.”

“He won’t remember it.”

“Savannah will.”

Reid reaches over to click off the lamp. The sun isn’t up yet, but on the horizon there’s the barest hint of light.

Morgan wraps an arm around his shoulders and squeezes. “C’mon,” he says, “we’ll catch the sunrise on the way to the store.”

“Are they even open this early?”

“Someone will be.”

Reid follows him. He’s silent for most of the ride. It’s only when they round the corner and the sun pierces his eyes that he whispers, “Thanks.”

Morgan’s smile is brighter than the gold-streaked sky.

“Any time.”  
\----

 


End file.
